


From The Pieces of Broken Memories

by BlackWolf105



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Character Study, I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A FIX_IT, Not A Fix-It, Post 5x13 Return 0, Sameen Shaw Character Study, This is not Happy, This is why I should never listen to music when I write..., What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 08:18:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWolf105/pseuds/BlackWolf105
Summary: My first time writing for the POI fandom, and of course, this is what I write.Work title if from This is Gospel by Panic! at the Disco (if you haven't heard it I highly recommend) which is what I was listening when this appeared on my word document that was supposed to be a history paper...





	From The Pieces of Broken Memories

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing for the POI fandom, and of course, this is what I write.  
> Work title if from This is Gospel by Panic! at the Disco (if you haven't heard it I highly recommend) which is what I was listening when this appeared on my word document that was supposed to be a history paper...

Love is a fickle thing. You can spend years not realizing what it is you’re looking for, what it is you want, or what it is you need.

Then you see them across a crowded bar or you run into them in an airport, when you stumble into a police station, or someone walks up to you and offers you a job.

You look into their eyes and know that they’re exactly what you’ve been missing.

***

Sameen never thought she was meant for love.

Her parents believed in soulmates, believed that out there somewhere in the world, was someone. The perfect half, the perfect partner.

Her father believed he’d found it in her mother.  

Her mother believed she’d found in her father.

Sameen never did believe. She wasn’t sure if it was soulmates she didn’t believe in, or love. In reality, she guessed it didn’t really matter.

Love made people weak. It hurt, broke hearts, broke _people_ , and frankly, Sameen wanted nothing to do with it.

She’d learned at an early age that in the end, it all gets taken away.

(friends, family, people she _cared_ _about_ )

(taken by cars that turn over and make the whole world spin like the merry-go-rounds she could never stomach, by fire and by smoke that slowly fill the night as the crickets chip away and the moon shines cold into the clear, silent night)

(silent until her mother appears and suddenly Sameen couldn’t hear the crickets anymore, couldn’t hear anything but the sound of a breaking heart, and the starry sky filled with smoke and lights, and honestly she just wanted to look at the stars)

Unfortunately, the things she didn’t want often found a way of finding her.

***

She never wanted friends.

(Michael was the first, but she didn’t realize it until it was too late, when, like the rest of the people in her life, he’d left her)

(but this time was different -- her father left her and she was unmoved, her mother and she barely gave it a second thought, but Michael  -- he left her and she found she’d _changed_ , that he’d changed her)

She never wanted family.

(but she somehow wound up with a new father, two annoying brothers, and even a fucking dog)

She never wanted _her_.

(but the moment she looked into her eyes that first night, zip cuffed to a chair, body still shaking from the taser, she knew this time would be different, that this woman, whoever she really was, was different from every other person in the whole goddamn _world_ )

Sameen never wanted these things -- these _people_ \-- but  they needed her, and turns out she needed them.

If someone had asked her three years ago if she would jump in front of a bullet for someone, she would have laughed in their face.

Now? She’s done it, and would do it over and over and over again, just to protect them, just to keep them ( _her_ ) from getting hurt.

What she didn’t count on, was them doing the same.

(was _her_ doing the same, because damn it, she’d just got back and she’d spent a year a _whole fucking year_ watching everyone die, watching herself kill them all — _not them all, never them all_ —and she finally realized what it was she wanted, what it was she _needed_ )

Sameen was willing – was always willing – to die for her friends, for her family, but it never occurred to her that maybe they were willing to do it too.

***

She never understood the importance of last words before, why it mattered what a loved one told you before they died, why it mattered what you told them.

Why what mattered most was what was never said.

(in those simulations, Sameen had told her everything, hundreds and thousands of time, in millions of ways, she told her, and for a split second when she looked at Reese – his expression never changed, but she could read it just the same - she thought _at least she knew_ )

(it occurred to her later, that in all those thousands of simulations, there was one person who _never_ died, no matter what else happened, one person always came out alright, and if this was real, then it wasn’t a simulation and she was really gone and _she never knew_ )

(Reese told her, in his silent way, that she’d known, had always known)

(Finch told her with his words)

(not that what either of them said matters, they were both gone as well, one with her in the ground and the other might well have been)

Sameen had never wished for anything in her life, always thinking it pointless and childish, but as she stood staring in the wet grass, she wished for a second chance.

(one where she could tell her exactly how she felt, how _she_ made her feel, for the first time in her life)

A chance where she could hold her hand and press their lips together, just once more.

But here the words just stuck in her throat, dying before they even left her lips, because what was the point? What did it matter if she said those words now? There was no one left to hear, no one left to _care_.

Just a sodden grave, and a woman standing blindly in the rain.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for... whatever this was...  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated (although I'm not so sure I deserve them after this...)


End file.
